


Boudain

by Han_shot_first



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: #TrickOrJaq2019, #dickoff2019, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 09:23:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21268748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Han_shot_first/pseuds/Han_shot_first
Summary: I see a bad moon a-risingI see trouble on the wayI see earthquakes and lightningI see bad times todayDon't go 'round tonightIt's bound to take your lifeThere's a bad moon on the rise





	Boudain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ewinofthelake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewinofthelake/gifts), [Griftings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griftings/gifts).

Her Daisy Dukes were so short, he could see the curves of her ass even before she'd bend over to sit on the park benches set up near his cheap food truck, and that alone was worth it for the sass he had to deal with. She was mouthy as hell, and she talked so much shit to the crew that she brought with her that sometimes he wondered if they were going to tan her hide right in front of him. But that Navajo concho belt was incised with a massive wolf, and he'd heard some strange tales around these parts about her daddy. So the crew sat and grumbled, and she talked her smack, and everyone got something to eat eventually.

"Dawlin'," he said as she strolled up to his food truck, same as always, her breasts swinging nicely in a tight white shirt. Her black hair was pulled severely into braids, and her alligator boots made no-nonsense smacks onto the gravel up to his counter.

"I'll take me a dressed po'boy," she said, no-nonsense and fierce-like.

He nodded once, and said, "When you gon' try my red beans an' rice? And my boudain? I'll give you a lil' lagniappe."

She glared at him and said, "I just bet you would."

"Aw cher, come on now."

She shook her head, and turned her back, giving him a delicious view of her backside. Lord a'mighty, did she have sweet little curves.

He gave her a little extra shrimp, just for that.

\----

"How 'bout trying my boudin balls?"

"If you funnin' me, I'mma get Lady Melisandre on Tchoupitoulas to put a gris-gris on you!"

"F'true! Now cher, don't go botherin' dat ole hag, she don't need to know nothin' bout' nothin'...."

\----

When she finally let him into her bed, he surprised her by flipping her over. Before she could stop him, he had discovered a tiny little vestigial tail at the bottom of her back. She shrieked and was out of the bed before he could react more than a gasped "Oh!", and was sliding into those tiny Daisy Dukes that had snared him from the start.

"Wait - where you goin?" he asked, breathless and naked as a jaybird. He tried standing in front of her, his cock still hard and leaking, reaching out to touch her, but she pushed him away.

"I got to go," she said miserably, trying to put distance from him.

"Why?" he said gently, trying to pull him closer to his body, the warmth of him pulsing.

"You know!" she said, and then viciously pushed him away, collecting her bra from the floor.

"'Cause of that lil' ole tail?" he said with his head cocked to one side, and she snarled with real anger then. Pulling a switchblade from her tiny shorts, she pounced on his chest; they fell back onto her bed with a grunt.

"You shut up, Jaqen H'ghar, or I will pull your ribs from your chest and eat your heart!"

The room was quiet and they stared into each others eyes, her grey panicked orbs locked onto his gentle bourbon gaze. He reached down, wrapped his long fingers over the knife, and said very quietly, "F'true, it don't bother me none. May all the angels and saints hear me, and God strike me down and send me to Hell, if'n I tell a lie."

He let the switchblade go and crossed his heart like a good Catlick boy.

Then he kissed her lips chastely, as though he hadn't just spent a good half an hour previously suckling at her breasts, licking stripes up her cunt, and driving her completely out of her mind. She licked her mouth and tasted herself.

He pulled the knife back against his neck and held very still, staring into her face.

"We're ... my father... our family. We're... wolves," she said quietly.

He nodded once, and didn't wince as the blade nicked his skin. Her face hardened and she pressed the blade very close against him.

"If I tell you," she said, her accent dropping away entirely, "if I tell you, and let you in, then you're in. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

No hesitation. He looked into her eyes and knew what he wanted. It was fate, destiny, his portion, his lot. He wanted all of it. She was the Mardis Gras doubloon he'd waited for all his life.

She studied him, and whatever she had seen was good enough. She leaned down and kissed him hard, then flung the knife away.

**Author's Note:**

> This is all yall's fault


End file.
